


Hedonistic (a.k.a. A Honeymoon in Europe, by Courtesy of David Rossi)

by bowie28



Series: Hotch/Reid Alphabet Memes [4]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowie28/pseuds/bowie28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The state of being of a forty-five year-old widower whose past three days were spent mostly (and actively) in bed with the love he’d almost lost? 'Hedonistic' isn’t the wrong word at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hedonistic (a.k.a. A Honeymoon in Europe, by Courtesy of David Rossi)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kuriadalmatia](http://kuriadalmatia.livejournal.com/) who requested ‘H for Hedonistic’ on my long overdue H/R alphabet memes. Hugely inspired by [all the adorable tweets](http://bowie28.tumblr.com/post/17469549315) and [sexy pictures](http://bowie28.tumblr.com/post/14729047249) of Thomas Gibson and Matthew Gray Gubler PR trip in Europe (Monte Carlo). Sex scenes are not my thing, so I hope this turns out all right. Feedback is love. 
> 
> **Beta:** None. Sorry. It’s weird having someone else proofread your porn. But if you spot any glaring errors, please let me know.  
>  **Cross-posted:** [LJ](http://bowie28.livejournal.com/71944.html)  
>  **Original posted date:** 16 June 2011

**Hedonistic**

  
_**(A Honeymoon in Europe, by Courtesy of David Rossi)** _

__

__

The word sounds ridiculously fitting when read in his former sister-in-law’s voice. Jessica would use a word like ‘hedonistic’ in her text message. Aaron puts his phone back on the nightstand, thanking God for yet another crisis-free day. He’s now allowed to return to what he was doing.

Watching that beautiful towel-clad body bending over the marble washbasin from their king-sized bed, he can’t say that Jessica was wrong. The state of being of a forty-five year-old widower whose past three days were spent mostly (and actively) in bed with the love he’d almost lost, in a five star Monacan hotel, and on someone else’s dime no less? _Hedonistic_ isn’t the wrong word at all.

The room is wrapped in warm sunlight and Aaron lets himself bath in it for another minute. Even though Monte Carlo wasn’t (and wouldn’t have been) his first choice, he can’t begrudge its perpetual sunny weather, something he knows meant to be enjoyed _outside_ their huge suite. Every night right before the post-coital exhaustion knocked him out, he promised himself he would make it happen the next day, and every day something would render that promise moot. The mole on Spencer's left cheek. The curve of naked buttock against the white sheets. The unintentionally suggestive remarks. Yesterday they almost made it, but Spencer had to have breakfast in their bed wearing nothing but Aaron’s shirt. And today he woke up to find Spencer doing his morning rituals in a towel with the bathroom door _wide open_. He starts to think that he isn’t the only one to blame.

Spencer doesn’t jump when Aaron appears behind him. Meeting Aaron's eyes in the mirror, Spencer gives him an easy smile. “Hey.”

The freshly washed scent from Spencer’s body keeps him from forming a word. Inhaling, Aaron buries his nose in the damp hair. The skin is warm and velvety under his touch. Watching the mirrored version of themselves now, he agrees that they do look good together. Better than good. _Happy._

It doesn’t take long for Aaron’s lips to find their favorite spot behind Spencer’s ear.

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks.

“You know how. You’re fully responsible for how I sleep in the last few days.”

Spencer chuckles, tilting his head so that Aaron has better access. “I just wanted to make the most of Rossi’s wedding gift.”

“Right,” Aaron mumbles as he leaves a trail of kisses along Spencer’s neck and shoulder blade.

“By utilizing the room he so graciously paid for us.”

Smiling against Spencer’s shoulder, Aaron has to point out, “I think we’ve utilized everything this room has to offer by now.”

Spencer lets out a content sigh and leans back, closing his eyes, a blissful smile on his face.

They stay like that for a while, enjoying exploring and being explored.

“Aaron,” Spencer finally speaks.

“Hmm.”

“Technically there’s one place left we haven’t utilized.”

Aaron knows he’s not the one with an eidetic memory, but he’s pretty sure they’ve done it on every surface in this room. Pausing, he looks up to meet Spencer's eyes in the mirror, his eyebrows raised.

Spencer tilts his head toward the bathroom door and Aaron's eyes follow.

Beyond their rumpled bed and outside the tall glass doors, the spacial balcony stands against the cerulean waters of the Mediterranean.

Aaron’s not much of an exhibitionist, but the thought of watching, touching, tasting Spencer’s creamy skin under the Monacan sun leaves him practically shaking. Aaron looks back at his amused newly wedded husband in the mirror. Has he always been this transparent?   

“We’re never going to get out of this room, are we?” Aaron muses, half of his face buried in Spencer’s hair.

“Technically, the balcony is _outside_ the room.”

Aaron can’t take his eyes of the young man in front of him, the young man who used to blush at sexual innuendos and oblivious to sexual advances, the young man who literally ran out of Aaron’s office one night after one impulsive kiss, the young man who wouldn’t look Aaron in the eye for weeks until Aaron told him that he felt it too, the young man who used to ask permission for touching and tasting him, the young man who used to be so self-conscious they had to turn off the light before making love. Was it all his doing? Aaron wonders if Spencer has changed him just as much.

Aaron is drawn out of his thoughts when a hand finds the back of his thigh and pulls him in. He’s rock hard against Spencer’s firm ass.

“Why aren’t you in me yet?” Spencer purrs, resting his head on Aaron’s shoulder.

Because he’s an idiot, that’s why. But Aaron doesn’t say that. He’s not _that_ much of an idiot. In fact he doesn’t say anything again until they both are standing on the balcony, embracing the warmness of the sun and the breathtaking scenery.

Boxing Spencer with his arms and body, Aaron leans in, takes Spencer’s hands and places them on the railing.

“Let’s hope Garcia’s not pointing one of the satellite cameras at our suite,” Spencer muses, his body slightly tense, which Aaron finds amusing and absolutely adorable.

“If you’ve changed your mind…”

“I haven’t,” Spencer says, his voice determined. “Why are you still dressed?”

“Because you keep talking.”

“I’m done talking.” With that, the towel between them is gone. Spencer has tossed it on one of the chairs.

Aaron’s now officially done talking. He runs his hands from the backs of Spencer’s thighs upward until they reach the firm globes and squeezes them lightly. Spencer makes a low pleasing sound, so Aaron does it again.

“Don’t tease.”

“You’re talking again,” Aaron says, his fingers slowly spreading the cheeks.

Spencer groans, “Please, Aaron.”

The sound of his first name from Spencer’s lips has always had an impact on him, whether it’s to make a point during an argument or to introduce an emotional declaration. Spencer knows this and Aaron’s in awe of how much power he himself has given up, how much control he has let go of, just to realize that he’s never felt lighter nor freer in his life.

His finger finds the ring of muscle and he pushes inside easily. Given what they’ve been doing almost non-stop in the last three days, Aaron isn’t surprised.

Spencer voices his appreciation as he rests his upper body onto Aaron. “I can take you,” he manages.

“I know you can,” Aaron says, adding another finger. “But you’re so beautiful when I make you wait.”

“I’m not beau… Ah!” Spencer cries as Aaron twists his wrist.

“You are.”

“Please.” Spencer reaches around and strokes Aaron’s erection through the fabric of his boxers.

Aaron pauses his hand. “I need to get…”

“Use your saliva,” Spencer says, half pleading, half ordering.

“Spencer…”

“Do you have an active mouth infection?”

“No, but…”

“Then use your saliva, or so help me God…”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told trice. He frees his cock from his boxers and quickly coats it with his spit.

“I can take it. Please, Aaron,” Spencer begs, his hands back on the railing, his ass pushed back.

Steadying Spencer’s hip with his hand, Aaron guides his cock in slowly. Spencer moans until Aaron’s completely inside him.

“God, you’re still so tight,” Aaron groans, half worrying if he’s hurt his partner. His worry fades quickly when Spencer started to push back, urging him to move.

Aaron does, slowly, watching himself slipping out of Spencer’s body only to slip back in again, and again, and again. And in the sunlight, he can _see_ everything.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Aaron can’t take his eye off of their linking bodies.

“Please.” Spencer tries to push back again, using the railing as leverage.

Aaron thinks it’s the most erotic thing he has ever seen.

“Yes,” Aaron cries, stilling himself as he watches Spencer push back and take control.

Spencer’s moans are getting louder as he keeps trying to take in as much of Aaron as fast and as deep as he can.

“Yes, take it, take what’s yours,” Aaron urges.

“Ahh… Aaron…” Spencer tries to move faster as his body desperately seeking that blinding sensation.

“We really need to get you out in the sun more,” Aaron remarks, spreading Spencer’s hand-printed cheeks.

“Aaron…” Spencer whines, the movement of his hips stalling. “Please... I need…”

Aaron knows what Spencer needs, from the way Spencer’s hips faltering, from the way Spencer’s thighs shaking and the knuckles of his fingers turning white. The knowing that, after all these years, he can still be what Spencer needs, _really_ needs, no matter how base or complicated those needs are, was the reason Aaron knew he needed Spencer too.

Aaron steadies Spencer’s hips with his hands and leans forward. “I know,” he breathes before reaching around and placing his hands over Spencer’s, entwining their fingers on the railing, and starts thrusting.

Spencer yelps and Aaron’s glad they are the only guests on their floor.

“Aaron...”

“I know,” Aaron whispers in Spencer’s ear, aiming his thrusts where he knows Spencer needs.

“Fuck.”

Aaron loves it when he makes Spencer curse, so he does it again, only harder and deeper.

The shortness of breaths and the way Spencer’s hand grabs the outside of Aaron’s thigh are the signs Aaron knows too well.

“I think I can make you come just from this,” Aaron says, his hips snapping faster.

Spencer’s curses turn into whiny noises. “Please.”

Aaron leans in and sucks Spencer’s neck hard. “You’re so good. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

Spencer cries as Aaron hit that place deep inside him. “Aaron! Fuck!”

“I know, baby. I know,” Aaron pets Spencer’s sides, his hips never changing the angle.

With a long wail, Spencer’s body arches against Aaron’s and white thick spurts shoot through the air.

Aaron groans at the sight, his hips can’t stop moving. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!” And with the last true thrust, Aaron explodes deep inside Spencer’s still trembling body.

After their breathing has calmed down, Spencer breaks the silence, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Pulling out, Aaron chuckles. “You said that yesterday in the shower.”

“It was true,” Spencer insists, turning his head. “Until now.”

Aaron chuckles again before kissing the reddish mark on Spencer’s neck. “I think we deserve a full body massage after that. I know I do.”

“Of course you do, old man,” Spencer teases, turning around.

Aaron’s ready to feign offended but Spencer’s starting to yawn. He has to suppress a grin.

“After a nap then,” Aaron decides, to which Spencer smiles his sleepy smile and gives him a brief but sweet kiss on the mouth before turning around and walking back into their suite.

“But we’re getting out of this room today,” Aaron insists, climbing after his thoroughly sated husband into their warm bed.

“Promises, promises,” Spencer mumbles into Aaron’s chest, tucking him close.  

It isn’t until thirty-two hours later that they keep the promise, and it’s all thanks to Dave and his opera tickets.

 

 

_Finis_


End file.
